Agree to Disagree
by Serenity2012
Summary: Things get a little tense with three Weasley women all living under the same roof. Ginny, Molly, and Aunt Muriel talk rather loudly about the war, Ginny's Quidditch dreams, and the possibility of grandchildren. H/G references


**Author's Notes- If anyone wants to suggest an idea for a Harry/Ginny fic, I will consider adding it to my "to be written" list. I do not own Harry Potter.**

Middle of April, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows:

"I blame you for this Molly," Aunt Muriel rapped the floor with her cane. "It is your responsibility _as her mother_- to teach Ginevra behavior that is appropriate for a young lady, not to fill her head with these… these fantasies," she sputtered.

"Excuse me! I happen to be a very good Quidditch player," Ginny yelled, dodging her mother's restraining hands. Strands of her flaming red hair swirled around her like the arms of a hurricane, and it was only her luck that she had left her wand upstairs because the old bat was really asking to be hexed. "Just because your fat arse can't get more than a foot off the ground-"

"Ginny, language!"

"You see? You see how wild your children are?" Aunt Muriel's eyes narrowed beneath the black lace veil she always wore. The parlor room they were standing in was fused with afternoon sunlight. It shone on the rose wallpaper and over-stuffed couches, the dozens of glass and porcelain trinkets that shivered when you moved, and yet she swooped around as a living shadow, cloaked like midnight.

"Now, wait just a minute," Molly Weasley uttered, pointing a finger at the elder witch. "I admit that my kids can be a lot to handle sometimes- what with the bickering, and the explosions, and the flying cars…." She stopped to take a steadying breath, "But they're all very hard workers. Even Fred and George really impressed me with their joke shop." Aunt Muriel humphed.

"And even more important than their entrepreneurship, they've showed how loyal and courageous they are. After what happened to Fabian and Gideon…." She wavered, remembering the green light that spelled their deaths. One minute they were standing there, taunting Death Eaters, the next they were caught from behind, and crumpled to the ground, not just dead, but lifeless in a way she'd never seen them before. Ginny squeezed her arm, recalling her to the present.

"I _never_ wanted my family to end up in the middle of another war," she choked. "But I notice how willing they are to fight, even when I beg them not to… and it proves that we've done something right in raising them, that they don't think twice before jumping in to save a friend."

"Don't take me wrong, Auntie. I appreciate what you have done in taking us in, but that doesn't give you the right to criticize _my_ children who are nothing short of wonderful… most of the time."

Muriel jumped up with surprising quickness for someone her age. "Are you quite through yelling at me _in my own house_?" Ginny was quite sure that some spittle would need to be washed out of her veil.

"No," Molly said, putting her hands on her hips in a warning gesture. "You should also know… Ginny can be whatever the hell she wants to be, as long as she's happy and gives me grandchildren."

Aunt Muriel refused to even dignify that with a reply. She stuck her nose in the air, presumptuously, and swept from the room, taking all sorts of shadows with her. Ginny stared, open-mouthed at her mother. It was just yesterday that she was fussing over some minor scratch she had received climbing from her bedroom window out onto the roof, and commenting how a Chaser position would be even more dangerous.

The sixteen-year-old had become convinced that she would only have her mother's full-fledged support after she had made it to the Harpies and was successful. Now, here she was… giving her a blessing. And she cursed! Who knows what impossible thing might happen next? A break-in to Gringotts maybe.

As if she had read her mind, Molly narrowed her eyes at Ginny in a weak attempt to make up for the blush staining her cheeks. "Hearing all of Muriel's arguments made me realize I had made a mistake trying to talk you out of playing sports…. That doesn't mean I won't worry about you, zooming around a field where people are _trying_ to knock you unconscious, but if it's what you want…." She smiled, motherly, and Ginny found herself rushing to hug her. They were within an inch of each-other's heights, but the warmth of Mrs. Weasley's embrace felt the same as when she was five and having trouble falling to sleep.

"Grandchildren?" she questioned, only just remembering that part of the deal.

"At least two," Molly said, pulling away to straighten her daughter's clothes. Then, louder, "That goes for the rest of you as well!"

Ginny watched as Charlie, Fred, and George came sliding into the parlor through the kitchen doors, each holding onto a band of fleshy string. "Aw shucks, Mum," Fred began.

"We never knew you were so proud-"

"- that we went behind your back to open a business."

"Exactly who am I supposed to have these kids with?" Charlie wondered out-loud, flexing his arm muscles so that each individual burn became a point of attention for a few seconds. It's not like he had much chance to meet someone out on the dragon reserve.

"Actually, our store-clerk has been asking about you." Fred explained, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Really, Verity…?" Charlie asked with some interest. She was a really cute girl, and since it appeared he was going to be stuck in England for a while…. "Hmmm".

Molly lured Ginny away from the conversation the boys were having. Their soft voices were covered up by the tick of the large grandfather clock in the corner, but that only made her daughter more nervous. "One last request…" she pleaded, reaching into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a slightly worn wizarding photograph. In it, a tall, bespectacled man leaned back against a tree, looking lovingly at a girl with red tresses- and she seemed just as happy, just as carefree. Ginny recognized it as the picture she had lost sometime during the move from the Burrow to Muriel's house. "Let one of them have green eyes, okay?"

**Author's Notes- Thanks to the reviewers of Right to Remain Silent: Stephanie O (I can't help it. I love the minor cliffhanger ending), Arrows the Wolf (I hope this story qualifies. I also have others you can check out on my profile page- not that I'm advertising ), Flan 303 (That's something I always shoot for, but I don't know if I always succeed. Thanks for your nice comments), iamnoone21 (I'm guilty of the same thing. I try to make my characteristics realistic, and that sometimes involves giving them my own weird quirks), and DwellingonDreams7 (You deserved it. I really couldn't have written some of my stories without your encouragement).**


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